


the best worst thing

by Molnija



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, M/M, because it would have been inconvenient, i'd tag this with something else but i honestly don't know with what, it's actually really dumb, seijoh and shiratorizawa have never played each other, this is for the hq-rare-pairs halloween fest!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 13:16:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8373604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Molnija/pseuds/Molnija
Summary: Shirabu Kenjirou was cursed, he decided after the third downpour of frogs onto his balcony. 
In which Yahaba’s pettiness knows no bounds, Shirabu suffers the consequences, and magic may be involved.





	

**Author's Note:**

> the hardest thing about this was the title. I'm still not happy with it. u g h (I pretty much just skipped through my playlists and ended up with American Beauty/American Psycho lol)
> 
> I can't believe I actually finished this ....... I can't believe it's actually this fucking long even though the ending was probably the worst part to write, simply because I needed a satisfying conclusion ... is it even satisfying I do not know at this point honestly, it's probably too abrupt despite this being. 15k. aka the longest consecutive thing I've ever written, I feel oddly proud ╭( ･ㅂ･)و ̑̑
> 
> I wanted to include some more actually shown examples of Shirabu's unfortunate adventures with magic but this was already long enough as it is, so you pretty much only hear it second-hand ... I'm so sorry I needed to finish this before Halloween AND I still have a chapter I want to finish this month ... and a Klance thing to translate and university starting aAAAAH
> 
> it's hard writing Yahaba, what the heck. why must you be like that, creampuff son, I love you and yet you treat me like this ;A;
> 
> it's proof-read now finally but there might still be mistakes uh

Shirabu Kenjirou was cursed, he decided after the third downpour of frogs onto his balcony.

One time, he would have understood. He was fairly certain that it was possible for small animals to rain from the sky at least in some parts of the world thanks to tornados and all that. The small town he just so happened to live and go to university in nowadays didn’t look particularly prone to it, but okay. Fine. Shit happened.

Two times, he’d been starting to get worried, then laughed, shrugged it off, and kissed his odds of ever winning the lottery goodbye because surely if there was any luck involved in being the only person struck by this … Peculiar weather twice it had drained his reserves until the end of his life.

But _three_ times? In the span of less than half a year?

No way. There could be nothing natural about that.

So as he was sweeping the amphibians through the bars of his balcony once again, carefully navigating them away from the door leading to his apartment – it was closed, but heck, you could never be sure – he settled on spending the rest of the week ditching class and investigating supernatural happenings instead. This might influence him for the rest of his life, if he didn’t get rid of it, and he couldn’t risk that.

Kenjirou narrowly avoided stepping on a frog and he could have sworn the animal in question shot him an offended glare before it hopped off voluntarily. Maybe he should have told it that they were on the fourth floor. He wasn’t too sure about jumping from which height could kill a frog but he doubted it would leave this place unscathed.

But then again, the distance it had fallen from the sky down to the cold stones of his balcony floor must have been even higher.

With Halloween arriving in about three weeks he would have considered the whole thing to be a stupid prank. Some rich kid with a plane, really good precision, and a severe case of _too much free time_ could have it out for him, he didn’t want to exclude any possibility. But ever since he’d arrived in the town of Akizaka, coming for the, albeit small, prestigious university that was one of the few even having his preferred subjects in its line-up, things had stopped making sense on several ends of the spectrum.

It wasn’t just the dark sky crying tears of living, breathing frogs, but his pens running out of ink before he even used them, his water turning to absolutely repulsive iced tea, and he was pretty sure that stray cat he’d picked up and was living with with now bore a striking resemblance to the one stuffed animal he’d taken with him and lost soon thereafter.

Right now, said stray cat was hissing at him from the other side of the glass door. “Shush, Mimi,” he murmured. She didn’t react, though it was most likely because she was still mad at him for forgetting to feed her yesterday, not because she hadn’t heard. Well, either that or she really hadn’t heard. Maybe a mix of both. Probably a mix of both.

“You’d be more of a help to me if you knew how to revoke curses.” She probably wouldn’t do it anyway, but a man could dream.

 

* * *

 

As usual, the library was mostly empty, save for the ancient librarian, fast asleep as always behind the counter. Kenjirou hadn’t seen them in any other position ever since first walking through the heavy portals, but nobody seemed to question it, just like the fact that the library was built into a former church of sorts, so he didn’t either. One thing he’d picked up quickly was that in this town, if you asked someone what was wrong with something, they’d most likely be confused by your question instead. He actually kind of liked it – Akizaka had its own very distinct rhythm, and it was easy to feel accepted by a world that didn’t seem to care about its many oddities.

Still, one had to wonder whether the person behind the counter was actually asleep or really just _dead_.

He bowed in greeting regardless, then paced through the spacious hall, in between the bookshelves, some of which extended to the high ceiling, others standing smaller than any he’d seen before. His footsteps would have resonated through the building if not for the amount of shelves. Still, in this silence, absolute as usual, even his lightest steps seemed too loud.

It wasn’t like there was anyone else here to hear them, but he felt conscious of them regardless. At least he knew where he was going – for his last assignment he’d had to look up some of the more eccentric topics to connect them to their respective time periods, so he did know where he could find what he was searching for. It made him feel slightly more at ease, wandering down to the very end of the hall, to the bookshelves housing what was the biggest real-life collection of magic books and information on the supernatural he’d ever seen.

One of the problems of living in this town was that you couldn’t get a decent internet connection _anywhere_. He wondered how this place was always as empty as it was right now. Did everyone have a secret information gathering technique he didn’t know of? He could be glad his studies could be done without the worldwide web, or else he’d be thoroughly screwed. More so than he already was, anyway.

Shame, really. At least he was living without a constant fear of succumbing to internet addiction.

He’d need the long ladder to scale up the enormous shelf and thanked whatever gods there were for not being afraid of heights as he stared up. The most fear-invoking thing was the sheer _amount_ of information in front of him, buried in books over books over books, some bigger than his upper arms.

“This might take me more than a week,” he said quietly to himself.

He had no idea where to start though, this was the first time he’d ever been cursed and he didn’t even know by what. Or because of what. Now that he thought about it, why was it happening to _him_ of all people? Had he stepped on the tail of a witch’s cat? Accidentally broken a twig that had actually been a wand? Was this some sort of beauty-and-the-beast story where he’d refused to let a stranger into his house because newsflash, _you don’t just let strangers into your house_?

He couldn’t remember doing anything even remotely offensive. To magical beings, at least. Maybe he should have treated Goshiki a little nicer during high school. Maybe Goshiki was the witch. Wizard. Whatever.

“You searching for something?” someone asked and when he turned his head, _this guy_ was sitting on one of the tables, looking at him intently.

 _This guy_ had a name, apparently, but none he’d ever told Kenjirou. He was taller than him, usually dressed in soft and bright colours, and had brown eyes that seemed to glitter golden from time to time. Maybe it was the lighting or the contrast to his hair, soft and of a greyish brown, like the first traces of winter.

He was another one of those Akizaka mysteries that Kenjirou had somewhat accepted. More often than not, he’d be there in the library when the other came, and sometimes they’d talk, but he was pretty sure that _this guy_ wasn’t enrolled in the university, despite being of seemingly similar age. What was he doing here? Nobody knew. Nobody cared. As far as Kenjirou was concerned, he was simply a pretty stranger who liked to read. Even though he’d never actually seen him read. Or do anything, really, besides lurk around and talk to whomever might have landed here.

“You don’t happen to know how to get rid of curses, do you?”

The boy cocked his head, his lips twisting into a condescending smile. “You’ve been cursed? Shame. Well, you probably deserve it after spilling coffee on that history book.”

“I told you, that wasn’t me.” It really had been, but he didn’t need to know that. Kenjirou had been tired and overworked, okay? And the library staff had since replaced it. “I’m taking that as a no though, so if you could just leave, that’d be great. I’m trying to save myself a life of magical terror, thank you very much.”

 _This guy_ tsk-ed and shook his head, that smile growing all the more irritating. “Once cursed, always cursed, Shirabu! You’ve just gotta live with frog rain.”

“Okay, how do you know that?”

Oh, he swore to god, if he had just found the reason for this whole dilemma, then no amount of golden eyes and soft hair could save his ass from getting _beat_. He had to admit he was lacking a motive though – even if he was that passionate about books, that incident had happened after the second rain. And the cat thing. And that one time all the sugar in his apartment had started tasting like fish.

“You’re the talk of the town, don’t you know? Word gets around here really fast.”

Kenjirou groaned, bringing a hand to his forehead. Of course. Just because nobody cared didn’t mean nobody knew. If anything, in a small place like this, even one as strange as Akizaka, a fate like his own wouldn’t stay his alone for long.

“Why do you look so smitten with that?” he asked in regards to the boy’s _damn_ smile, _Jesus Christ, you might be pretty but if you keep looking at me like that I_ will _punch your face in._

“No reason,” _this guy_ lied, not even bothering to hide it. “Just like to see you suffer.”

They hardly even knew each other. In which world was this fair?          

“Like I said, if you don’t have anything helpful to say, just shut up and get your ass out of my sight.”

“Language, Shirabu! We’re in a church!” Okay, the mock terror on the boy’s face was actually kind of funny, he had to admit that. Just not to his face. Or anyone’s face in general. The odds of that reaching him in the end were way too high.

So he just shrugged and turned to the books, trying to focus on reading the spines. Apparently, down here was the potion section. “I doubt there’s anything sacred about a church turned library anymore.” _5 Easy Steps To Mix Your Own Love Potion_. The book looked pretty new and was very thin, with a library sticker hiding half of the author’s name. Probably by someone trying to make a quick buck off gullible schoolgirls.

The mix of modern-day esoteric garbage and actual leather-bound antiquities throughout all of the shelf made him want to leave again. Nobody could take this seriously, what the hell. If he wanted to get rid of this though, the library was his best bet.

Well, either that or he could wait until he’d get home to a decent internet connection and what could actually be considered civilisation next month, but he was running out of patience.

“Hey, who knows, divine beings are supposed to be everywhere, right?”

“If they really are, they should help me,” Kenjirou muttered. He’d never been a particularly faithful person. Maybe he should have been. It was too late now, he supposed. For now he was on his own.

He _would_ have been able to concentrate on the task at hand if a certain boy wasn’t diverting his attention. For some reason – heck, just out of principle – the tone in his voice was really bothering him. As if he was lording something over him. What had _this guy_ ever done to look down on him like this? All Kenjirou knew was that he apparently had way too much free time, and that really wasn’t an achievement to be all too proud of.

Fucking mystery boy basking in Kenjirou’s despair. If anyone needed to get kicked out for bad behaviour, it was definitely him.

“You’ll never get rid of it with that attitude,” the boy mused, his smile apparent in his voice. Honestly, it was like he was asking to be punched. If he kept blabbering about religion, he should thank god that Kenjirou wasn’t feeling up to it while he was at it.

“My attitude would be much better if it weren’t for you ruining the mood as always.”

Well, _as always_ might be a little harsh, but whenever they engaged in conversation, something seemed to go wrong. He remembered thinking _oh no, he’s cute_ the first time he’d seen him; needless to say he’d since retracted that statement.

He side-eyed the boy who was looking at the books himself now, the annoying grin still plastered on his face as his eyes scanned the shelf absentmindedly.

Okay, maybe he still was kind of cute. Too bad his personality rendered that little fact null and void. A pretty girl might have been less trouble, but alas, his sexuality got in the way of that. Being gay was 0/10, would not recommend.

“You should be happy that I’m about to go then.” Music to Kenjirou’s ears. Finally, some peace and quiet. “Try _The Theory of Magic_ , the spells in that usually work!”

 

* * *

 

“He can try whatever he wants, he won’t get rid of it,” Shigeru said with a smile.

The voice on the other side of the phone tsk-ed disapprovingly. “Don’t you think it’s time to let this go? Let the poor boy rest.”

“ _You’re_ trying to lecture me about grudges, Oikawa-san?”

“I am, by nature, a very forgiving person,” Oikawa said. His tone of voice sounded really offended, but Shigeru knew what he was dealing with. He’d known him for long enough.

“Sure, that’s why when Kageyama—”

“Tobio,” he interrupted quickly, “has nothing to do with this. And besides, that’s all a thing of the past!”

Shigeru let out a small laugh. “Until you guys meet again once he’s graduated …”

“Have you always been this harsh? I don’t remember raising you this way.”

“You’re still going on about that … Didn’t we clear this last year? I’d much rather be Iwaizumi-san’s son than yours.”

He saw Oikawa’s face of horror as if he had been standing right next to him. “H-how dare you? Listen to your father, who is much more experienced than you and understands what you don’t just yet …”

“You’re only one year older than me,” Shigeru said.

“Ah, details, details … I’m your senpai at least, so be more respectful!” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, what about this whole charade? You still haven’t permanently cursed him?”

“Is that so, _senpai_ ,” Shigeru murmured, but his mood lightened when he thought about Shirabu. “Nope. Permanent curses are removable. As long as I’m just constantly enchanting him, he won’t ever get rid of it, and I can be much more creative! I’m pretty sure he doesn’t question always running into me in the library either. It’s not like I constantly follow him around, after all.”

“Good god, when did you get so petty— Wait, why do I ask, you’ve always been this way.”

“He deserves it.”

“If you say so … Still, use your powers for good every once in a while! If I were you, I …” There was a short pause accompanied by what were probably thinking noises until Oikawa spoke again. “I’d fix … Something … Broken pipes?”

“So what you’re saying is that if you were a wizard, you’d become a plumber,” Shigeru specified with a raised eyebrow. “Can’t really see it.”

“It’s just an example! I know that among the two of us, I’m most definitely the better person, but don’t you think it’s getting a little ridiculous?”

“Now I’m being lectured by the guy who took a photo of his rival bowing to him and still hasn’t deleted it two years later.”

“Listen—”

“Anyway, it’s not like I’m hurting him. If anything, I’m making his life more exciting. Mix it up a little, you know?” He slid down his bed and let his head fall onto the soft pillow.

“That is a terrible way to put it and you know it. I’m almost proud. Almost.”

Thinking back to all the times he’d tried to copy Oikawa in high school, he laughed. “I learned from the best.”

“I’m just taking that as a compliment.” Oikawa let out a long sigh. “I’ve gotta go though, Keiji’s coming home soon.”

Ah, living with a significant other. Must be nice. Shigeru couldn’t relate. “Well then, do whatever it is you do.”

“Call me again soon!”

“Are you still playing that overly attached dad card or do you just want to know more about the Shirabu case?”

There was a cough on the other end of the line. “I’m worried for you, is all. This town you’re living in, this Akizaka, I’ve heard concerning things.”

“Oikawa-san, I’m a wizard. I’ll be fine.” Still, it was reassuring to know that somebody cared. It wasn’t like Shigeru didn’t have friends, but none of them had come here, understandably, and Oikawa was pretty much the only one he was still regularly talking to. He’d heard similar things from Watari and Kyoutani – apparently he really _was_ an overly attached dad.

“I know, I know. I’m not gonna bother you anymore – well, for now! See you!”

“Hear from you, more likely,” Shigeru murmured and smiled. “Bye.”

A tap on the screen of his phone ended the call. He eyed the empty space where there was supposed to be a wi-fi sign and thought that maybe Oikawa was right about being worried. A place without Google could be a menace to live in.

If only there was a spell to install an internet connection.

At least bringing Shirabu misfortune was keeping him entertained. That pretty bastard did deserve it, though judging from their encounters, he didn’t even seem to remember why, which pissed him off even more. It was all the more satisfying to have something to lord over him.

“Shirabu Kenjirou, huh?” he muttered to himself, the sound still somewhat echoing through the nearly empty room. The boy was his age, from his region, and had apparently even played volleyball like him, even though they’d never faced one another. If they’d had, it would have been a pleasure to crush him – especially since they’d played the same position, too. Oikawa really would have been proud.

After graduating from Shiratorizawa Academy, he’d come to Akizaka to study … Some direction of history, Shigeru wasn’t too clear on the details. In any other situation, they might have gotten along.

Oh, who was he kidding, their personalities seemed to clash in any way, shape, or form.

At least he had a way to deal with it.

Maybe Oikawa was right and he was being petty – no, he was most certainly being petty – but nobody who’d made his precious niece cry and subsequently rip the roof off their house deserved a life without stress. Some of the spells he’d learned in high school (courtesy of Matsukawa Issei) of which he’d thought he’d never use them were actually coming in handy right now. He wouldn’t go out of his way to hurt Shirabu, after all, and just pranking him seemed harmless enough.

And since he’d been dead-set on taking a year off before starting university, he didn’t even have anything better to do. By the end of the year, Shirabu could live in peace again.

Until then though ... He was probably already busy with _The Theory of Magic_. Well, one of the many. Shigeru thought it might have been entertaining to see him right now, but he was a wizard, not a stalker, and he’d probably find out how it went soon enough. He didn’t particularly believe Shirabu was stupid enough to actually try the spells out on his own, but he’d seemed desperate, so only time could tell.

He stared at the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling – a present from Oikawa, obviously – and felt a smile spread on his lips again. Shirabu would probably be talking to him again tomorrow, when they’d meet again in the library out of _sheer coincidence_ , and maybe Shigeru would finally be nice enough to tell him his name. In the beginning, he hadn’t been particularly keen on it, the stories about just how a name could be used against you still haunting him to this day, but he saw no harm to it. It wasn’t like Shirabu was too well-versed in magic anyway, or else he’d recognise that no way in hell was his fate a simple curse.

It might be nice hearing him say it. _With no idea what he could do with it_ , he quickly added mentally. Just hearing him say it had nothing nice to it. _Obviously._ He had a grudge, not a crush.

Who would crush on a guy like that anyway? His personality was like … A cactus. Prickly, annoying, and generally unpleasant.

(He actually really liked cacti, but that was beside the point.)

His smile fell and he turned around, pressing his face against the pillow. Wonderful, now that he’d pondered the possibility, he wouldn’t be able to look at Shirabu again, and how was he supposed to bask in the glory of his success if he couldn’t do that?

“You’re not even that into guys,” he said, his words muffled by the pillow. It was true. Bisexual, maybe, but leaning toward girls. He should be thinking about his cute former classmate or something. Why couldn’t she have been the one to make his niece cry? That way, it could have slowly dissolved from mutual dislike into a slow-burning love story, but if that happened with Shira—

“Goddammit, Shigeru.”

Never in his life would he admit it, but sometimes he really missed Kyoutani. At least he’d hit him when he was thinking stupid stuff. He should’ve just dragged him with him, as some sort of animal companion. Werewolves counted as animal companions, right?

And he didn’t even have the internet to get his mind off this senselessness. _Just do your fucking job_ , Kyoutani’s voice resounded in his head.

But ah well, none of these … Hypotheses would matter once he’d see Shirabu again and was reminded how much of an ass he was. Until then, he’d just go to sleep.

 

* * *

 

 _The Theory of Magic_ did not help.

Kenjirou would have blamed it on the fact that two dozens of books with that exact title existed in a single row of the shelf alone, but really, this one was on him.

Note to self: Don’t try ominous Latin spells on your own at home unless you want to end up with the glass of water in front of you starting to burn. He should have known that. He should have _really_ thought that through.

At least he knew the spells were working?

The fire hadn’t been big, but getting it out had been a daunting task. In what could only be considered a genius move he’d sprayed even more water on it, and just before the flame had been able to start eating away at his desk, he’d managed to put it out with a blanket, which was now ruined but at least he wasn’t _dead_.

Mimi’s meowing sounded almost like a laugh, the tone was incredibly similar to _this guy_ ’s words at the library earlier today. Were they in league or something? He wouldn’t hesitate to throw this cat from hell out if he had to. Or, well, give her to a shelter. He wasn’t _that_ cruel.

Maybe she’d get along with mysterious library guy, they sounded equally annoying.

He decided to ask him for his name next time he’d inevitably stumble upon him, just because he was hoping that he had something he could make fun of. Right now he felt kind of powerless – the guy was toying with him, damn it, and he couldn’t even insult him properly because he knew absolutely nothing about him. He’d contemplated ‘pretty boy’, but that just sounded like a damn compliment.

At least then he could shove these twenty-four books in his face appropriately. Why had he even followed his advice? Hadn’t he assumed he’d lost his faith in humanity around his second junior high year? That had been a good plan. He should have gone through with that. Trust no one but himself and Ushijima, because he was pretty sure Ushijima couldn’t lie if he tried.

Mimi jumped on the desk as he scrubbed to get the burn marks off. He shoved her aside and she hissed in protest before sitting down demonstratively, not moving another inch.

If she really was his old stuffed animal, he regretted all the time he’d spent cherishing her as a kid.

Well, but now that magic was proven to be a thing – quite honestly, he’d never really _doubted_ it, especially not after moving here – that meant that he had a chance of continuing his life normally once he’d gotten rid of that curse.

Even though it was a really specific curse if he thought about it. Maybe he’d been cursed several times. Or just with bad luck in general. Though was this really bad luck? That’d be more like walking into glass doors more often than necessary.

He sighed and dropped to the floor, suddenly exhausted. This was all too much. Maybe he should just give it a rest, file this away under _things that I’ve just got to deal with as they come_ and get his mind off it. If he overthought things, his academics might drop too, and he didn’t come all this way to the middle of nowhere to fail university.

Still, things couldn’t just _go on_. Right now the events were mostly harmless, but what if they stopped being that way? If it took a turn for a worse, he could get seriously hurt – or others could.

He grabbed a pillow from a nearby chair and pressed it against his face. Sitting there like this now made him realise that his initial spontaneous plan (namely scream into it, because that’s what you did when you were frustrated, right?) felt kind of awkward too, so he dropped it into his lap and threw his head back, accidentally banging it against a wall.

“Ouch,” he hissed, the dull pain resonating through his skull. Was he allowed to blame this on the curse or had he suddenly become really incompetent? He’d do the former regardless. Without it, he wouldn’t even be in this mess.

The library was closed already, now that the moon and the stars were hiding behind clouds, leaving the night dark and gloomy. If it hadn’t been, he might have gone there, dumped the books on the desk, and kicked mystery library boy if he’d been there, but alas, it wasn’t meant to be.

Mimi jumped from the desk just to sit back down in front of him and meow.

“Oh, shut up.”

 

* * *

 

They didn’t meet in the library.

They met at a statue of who appeared to be the founder of Akizaka in the town centre, by complete chance, for once.

The air was about as cold as it got in autumn and the first thing Shigeru noticed was a bright magenta scarf wrapped around someone’s neck. He’d noticed it mostly because the colour was absolutely appalling and he had no idea who would willingly wear that, but once he’d realised who was wearing it, he had been torn between engaging in a conversation and making a run for it. All their former meetings had happened because he’d planned them to. For this, he had no strategy.

The decision was taken out of his hands when Shirabu turned his head, something gleamed up in his eyes and he came hurrying toward Shigeru with a really pissed of expression on his face, each of his steps heavy and forceful.

He wouldn’t be _violent_ , right? Shigeru was pretty sure he could handle himself, but anger awakened many unknown powers in people, specifically those to kick someone’s butt, as Watari had once said.

Shirabu opened his mouth and closed it again before coming to a halt in front of him. If nothing else, Shigeru could at least relish in the fact that he was taller.

“I almost burned my house down,” the other hissed, his eyes – light brown, a shade similar to his hair but he could have sworn they were gleaming red right now – practically burning into Shigeru’s. So much for having the high ground. He felt genuinely threatened.

“W-well, it’s not my fault if you screw up,” he retorted with only the smallest delay. He could do this. He could regain his composure. Eventually. One of these days.

“You said ‘it always helps’, so if you know so much better, why don’t you just help me out with this and I may spare you. You have nothing better to do anyway.”

Shigeru wanted to protest at the last statement, but didn’t feel like thinking up a lie. It might just get him into deeper trouble.

Shirabu was coming ever closer and Shigeru took a step back to get some distance between them, but he was constantly being followed, apparently. “Why should I bother? It’s not like I owe you. I was really trying to help you, you know, but if you—” An impossibly sharper glare shut him up. “Never mind. What’s in it for me?”

 _If you’re good at something, never do it for free._ Not that he was particularly _good_ at it. But he could at least make Shirabu believe it.

“Not getting your ass beat.” Each word was as sharp as a knife, and he wasn’t sure whether to be intimidated or just plain impressed. Personally, he would have used something less straightforward and more fundamentally disturbing, but to each their own.

He was just trying to survive this without going crazy.

Now, there were a number of things he could do. He really could make a run for it, promise Shirabu something and then never show his face in Akizaka again, but he was above such tactics. He could disagree and suffer the consequences, which didn’t sound like the best deal either. So at the end, there weren’t a number of things to do after all.

He raised his hands defensively, quickly bringing out an, “Okay, okay, I’ll help,” until he realised that his hands were now somewhat touching Shirabu’s chest and he actually was really damn close.

Oh lord.

 _He wants to kill you, Shigeru, you’re better than this_ , he reprimanded himself mentally.

There was a moment of very awkward silence and even more awkward eye contact (maybe the brown wasn’t all that bad, without the evil glint in it) until Shirabu shuffled back hurriedly and lowered his gaze to the ground. Shigeru should have probably done the same thing, but he still found himself looking. The slight blush on Shirabu’s cheeks might have just been from the biting cold, but … _Shigeru, what the heck, this is the exact opposite of what you planned_.

“Alright … Alright then,” Shirabu spat out. “How are we gonna do this?”

He should be passive now. Say something like ‘I’ll work a spell from afar and you’ll be rid of it soon’. Under no circumstances ever would he let himself be invited or anything, that would cause even more trouble.

“Can you come by my apartment tomorrow? At … Two?”

“Sure.”

_Goddammit._

“See you then.” Shirabu turned on his heel, adjusted that atrocious scarf, and stalked away with fast steps.

“I’m Yahaba Shigeru, by the way,” Shigeru called and he turned around, eyes wide in surprise. “I mean, you should know by now. Since we’re … Acquaintances now. Or business partners. Or. You know.”

Wow, he was killing it today. This was why he’d planned those other meetings.

Shirabu blinked at him. Once. Twice. “Yahaba Shigeru,” he repeated.

(It did sound nice in his voice.)

Then, he said, “Shirabu Kenjirou.”         

“I know,” Shigeru said.

There was no way he was telling Oikawa any of this.

 

* * *

 

Kenjirou would file this day away under _things that must have been a dream_. It wasn’t even fucking noon yet and he was already sitting in the most hidden café he’d found and contemplating his life choices.

 _Of course_ it had been awkward, that was what happened when you realised that you were too close for comfort with a person you couldn’t stand, so _of course_ he would have been blushing with embarrassment. It was natural. A thing people just kind of did.

Still, could it have been with anyone other than that annoying library guy – Yahaba?

Yahaba … Shigeru. Like the rival from Pokémon. And his distant cousin’s boyfriend.

Why was he bringing boyfriends into the equation?

He’d let him revoke the fucking curse and then avoid him for all eternity, and if he had to send someone to the library for him any time he needed a book. He’d install internet wires all over the town with his own hands if that meant never having to leave his apartment and fear to run into him again. There was a certain amount of awkwardness one could take, this was way above it.

Kenjirou had been _mad_ , he’d wanted to be _threatening_ , but all of that had poofed away like Goshiki’s heterosexuality when he’d encountered Hinata.

God, fate was not being kind to him lately.       

And he’d even invited the damn bastard, as if he had anything to do in his apartment. He figured he could tell him to meet in the library at least, but that would mean talking to him again and there was no way in hell he’d do that.

Did Yahaba even have his address? He’d known his name and about the frog dilemma, so probably.

At this point, he really would have screamed had he not been in a public café.

 

* * *

 

 _Tomorrow_ came really fast.

Faster than it should have, probably, seeing how Kenjirou was still regretting the meeting at the town centre more than anything he’d ever done before, but here he was, and the clock was about to strike two as he was sitting on his bed, petting a reluctant Mimi, hoping that maybe Yahaba was going to be late, or, even better, wouldn’t come at all.

But then again, the sooner they got this over with the better.

His initial plan of ditching their entire acquaintanceship once he was rid of the curse still stood, and he just had to believe that for once in his life Yahaba would do something right.

The latter sounded unlikely.

The blanket he had used to put the fire out two days ago was resting on a chair by the window, black and almost crumbling apart where the flames had touched it. He should probably throw it out, but he always forgot about it until he had something else to do, so he hadn’t gotten it done yet. Maybe he could at least shove it into the closet so that Yahaba wouldn’t see it and make fun of him. If he dared. Kenjirou _had_ managed to force him this far, so he might have more power over him than he was giving himself credit for.

If that was the case, he’d use it to its fullest. After all those times Yahaba had spoken in this condescending tone of voice, ridiculed his problems, and given him tips that hadn’t been tips at all, the tables ought to turn for once.

Which was why he immediately mentally slapped himself when he flinched because someone was knocking at his door.

 _Alright, here we go_ , Kenjirou told himself and set up his best poker face. Being friends with Taichi had taught him a thing or two about that.

He made his best efforts to not trip over his own feet on the short way to the door and took a deep breath before laying his hand on the door handle. _Alright. Let’s get this over with._

The door swung open and revealed Yahaba standing in the hallway, a bag slung over his shoulder and his hands in the pocket of his jacket.

Kenjirou was about to stop himself from thinking _cute_ when he said, “Wow, is that really your wall colour? It’s terrible.”

“It’s _olive_ , and if you actually came in you’d realise it’s not that bad,” Kenjirou retorted. He just so happened to like the colour, thank you very much, he wouldn’t let some pretty boy insult it.

Yahaba did as told, but snorted when he stepped inside the small apartment. “Seriously, your colour coordination is all over the place, and it’s not even _pretty_ colours. Red curtains with those walls? They really do look like vomit, by the way.”

“Shut your face or get your ass out of here.”

“I’d love to,” Yahaba mused, “but now that you’ve forced me to do this I might as well stay.”

Right. That had been a stupid thing to say. Kenjirou turned away to close the door so he’d have time to think of something else.

Remembering the guy was here for a reason, he simply said, “Fine. What are we going to do?”

“What’s the matter, ran out of witty remarks?” Yahaba set down his bag on the desk and eyed it for a moment. “So that’s what you’ve burned. How did you do _that_?”

“I still know the spell, so if I were you, I’d just do my job and then leave.” He didn’t really know it anymore at all. Another point on the long list of things Yahaba didn’t need to know.

The other opened the bag, revealing a big, old-looking book inside it. “You’re so violent. Speaking as someone who once slammed a guy against a wall, I think you’re underestimating me a bit, Shirabu.”

“Prove it,” Kenjirou growled.

There was a moment of awkward silence before he added, “By helping me get rid of the curse. I mean.”

_Oh god, let this be over soon._

Yahaba raised an eyebrow admittedly pretty elegantly and cocked his head. “ _Sure_ , that’s what you were thinking of.”

“I’m actually going to throw you from the balcony.”

If the heat on his cheeks was any indication, he was blushing right now, and once again Kenjirou wondered how exactly he’d gotten himself into this situation. If he found the person responsible for this fucking drama, he’d go so far as to study magic for the rest of his life just to curse their sorry ass to hell and beyond.

Yahaba shrugged, seemingly unaffected. “You don’t know what you’re missing out on. Anyway …” He took out the book and dropped it on the floor with a resonating _thwump_.

There was no title written on it and Kenjirou was pretty sure he hadn’t seen it before, but the worn brown leather indicated its age. It must be a few centuries old, though he couldn’t guess the exact time.

Should he really trust some overly snarky guy with his ancient spells or did stuff like that need to be updated? He could imagine magic stayed about the same throughout the years, but he wasn’t quite certain.

On top of that, who knew Yahaba wouldn’t actually make everything worse?

“I swear, if you weren’t my last resort …”

“Last resort? Since when are you trying to deal with this?”

Well, granted, three days. But he was _already_ running out of options. “Longer than it’s your business, _pretty boy_.”

Oh, now he’d said it after all. It really did sound like a compliment. He could only hope Yahaba wouldn’t take it that way, or notice him flushing even darker.

“Aw, you think I’m pretty? You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

Of course he would, why even wonder.

“You actually remind me of a classmate I had once. Although, you know …” He stared at the ceiling, a hand resting on his chin. Probably. Kenjirou only saw it from the corner of his eyes as he was aggressively trying not to look. “If you’re calling _me_ a pretty boy, you’re not much better yourself. Even though that haircut doesn’t really help.”

“Excuse you, my haircut is—” No. _No_. He would _not_ deal with this. He’d follow his initial plan of working the spell or whatever it was and then _kicking him out of here for all eternity_. “The curse.”

Yahaba shot him a confused look. “Your haircut is the curse? I mean, yeah, I can see it …”

“We’re revoking that curse _now_ , and we’re going to do it quickly,” Kenjirou said in the fiercest voice he could manage, complete with a deadly glare that hopefully came across that way.

The other licked his lips (he would not stare at his lips right now. He was _mad_ at him. And didn’t even like him in the first place. What the hell) before he sighed. “Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do …”

 

* * *

 

If this had been a different situation, Shigeru would have made all this trash up as he went, but that encounter yesterday had taught him once again to be prepared if nothing else. Now he was still about to do some made up crap, but at least he had a plan.

That plan involved sitting Shirabu down in front of him, reading out some spell he’d tried out yesterday that was proven not to work, and walk out of that door as if nothing had ever happened. What he’d do afterwards was still unclear – it’d be a shame to miss out on the magical pranks, so he’d considered just going on and claiming it hadn’t worked, but he’d see about that later.

As of now, toying with Shirabu like this was fun enough. It felt good to have the high ground again; he could basically do whatever he wanted and get away with it, simply because the other one had no idea what was actually going on. Maybe he could mix his own natural magic in and give Shirabu a donkey’s tail or something, blaming it on the spell.

But then again, he didn’t want to see Oikawa cry at his funeral, so he probably shouldn’t do that.

“So, sit down on the floor …” Seeing Shirabu actually obey him, if with a wary look in his eyes, was worth all of this. “It’d be easier if I knew what exactly that curse is, but from everything I’ve heard it’s pretty standard. That classmate I mentioned went through a similar thing, so I guess I kind of know what to do.”

“ _Kind of_?”

“Hey, you were the one who wanted me here so badly,” he defended himself, relishing in the ever-present blush on the boy’s face. Maybe he hadn’t exactly lied when he’d said Shirabu was cute when he was flustered. Not that it mattered right now. _Keep your composure, or you’ll end up just like him._

Although that would technically imply that he _did_ have a crush, which wasn’t the case, obviously, so maybe he shouldn’t worry at all—

“Either way, there’s this spell that’s supposed to keep bad luck away from you. It worked last time, it’ll work this time, too.”

At least it was keeping him distracted from laughing. Honestly, who’d fall for something like this? Shirabu seemed to get good grades, but he was definitely lacking intelligence – or experience – in the magic department.

He must _really_ be at his wit’s end. After three days. That sounded unlike him, actually, but who was Shigeru to know? He only knew him from their banters in the library, his research, and whatever the inhabitants of Akizaka were gossiping about lately.

Actually, he did have kind of a lot information, if he thought about it, at least more than a normal acquaintance probably would.

He’d just never bring it up ever again and he’d be fine.

“So what now—”

Shigeru leaned forward to press a finger to Shirabu’s lips, accompanied with a sharp, “Shhh, I need silence.”

He realised his mistake a second too late and quickly drew away again, repressing the urge to awkwardly cough.

The look Shirabu was giving him was legendary, his cheeks about the same colour as Shigeru’s felt, and he decided to just run with it and pretend that was planned, even if everything in his mind was shouting _Why? Did? You? Do? That?_ and if he had been able to, he would have opened a hole in the ground right then and there to disappear for all eternity, but he didn’t have such luxury.

“Seven billion people in this world and I met _you_ out of all of them,” Shirabu muttered under his breath, just low enough for him to hear. “The gods really are assholes.”

“I’m taking that as a compliment,” Shigeru managed to say without stuttering. “Now shut up and let me get to work.”

To spare either of them, most likely, the boy actually did what he was told as Shigeru flipped to the page he’d bookmarked earlier. The spell was supposed to make ink turn invisible, but the format was completely off. Just because this book, which he’d inherited from his grandmother, was old didn’t mean the spells worked. Normal humans could work some spells if they’d been created by an actual wizard, the author of this one must have been a wannabe.

The text wasn’t even in an actual language. It sounded an awful lot like Latin, but most of the words made no sense, especially when he was reading them out loud. He’d practised reading it yesterday so that he wouldn’t stumble over anything, and now he was going down the page with relative ease.

Maybe he should have set up something more ridiculously over the top, like a specific brand of candles and epic music, just to annoy Shirabu. It was too late now, though – he’d need to remember that for next time if something like this ever happened again.

He got to the end of the page and decided he’d had enough, so he cleared his throat and closed the book again. “There we go, you should be fine now.”

He just now saw that Shirabu had closed his eyes, and it took him a moment to open them again, blinking rapidly. “That was all there is to it?”

“Yup,” Shigeru said and shrugged. “If there’s still stupid stuff happening to you now, it’s probably just bad luck. Or karma. Maybe you should just be nicer, you know.”

“I’m getting this from _you_ of all people?” Shirabu snorted. “I just thought there might be something … More colourful. Or a special feeling or something.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong. If Shigeru had actually been revoking a curse or working a spell on him, he would have felt something, though it would have been easy to miss – both of them, to be exact, as the one the magic was directed on and the one who was working it. Perhaps he should have added something, raise the temperature in the room or cause a slight breeze to blow through the apartment, for the cinematic effect at least. Now it was too late, sadly. It would have been nice to see Shirabu’s stunned face at the magic. Right now he just looked kind of sceptical, a common look on him, but not exactly the most pleasant. He could probably be much cuter if he smiled some more.

“You have a wrong idea of magic. It’s not all glowing and glittering like in the movies,” he said instead.

“Is that so.” Shirabu’s eyes were trailed on the ground, and Shigeru couldn’t quite see it from this angle, but he might have been a little disappointed. It reminded him of Oikawa when he’d first fixed his hair after what had been his one and only attempt to dye it. _What do you mean, it just turned back? That’s the most boring magic I’ve ever seen!_

Except that Oikawa actually had some sense of style. He wouldn’t have expected it from practical, _just get that damn curse off me_ Shirabu.

Shigeru couldn’t help the grin spreading on his face – that was not just cute, but also excellent information for further shenanigans.

“And what are you so smug about?” Shirabu snapped, eyebrows furrowed.

“Nothing at all!” he sing-songed in his best Oikawa impression before standing up. “Now where’s my payment?”

“Of not getting your ass kicked? Right here, take it with gratitude. But if you screwed up, I’m issuing my right to take it back.”

Okay, he’d have to get really creative if he wanted to continue this. Or develop a sudden masochistic streak. Well, that or he could just defend himself with magic, but that felt like cheating. He was above that. (Usually.)

“Have a little more faith in me.”

“’More’ would imply that I had faith in you to begin with,” Shirabu deadpanned. “Now get out. Your work here is done.”

With that, Shigeru was being shoved over the doorstep and the door fell shut behind him without so much as a ‘goodbye’.

“Such a jerk,” he muttered, staring at the light wooden door. But he had to admit, for the short time being it had been pretty fun, even with that disgusting wall colour. He almost thought he could let Shirabu off for good now – yeah, he’d been rude, but Shigeru hadn’t been too nice either. Not that he regretted that, no way. Maybe he’d just take a break and think about what to do then, or listen to Oikawa for once and just let him live.

He’d see.

 

* * *

 

“Two weeks and nothing bad happened,” Kenjirou said. He still couldn’t quite believe that Yahaba’s spell had actually _worked_ , but this was the longest time he’d gone without his ink turning a hot pink or his bedsheets suddenly being marked with the logo of his least favourite soccer club. Finally, after all this time, he could breathe easy without fearing some sort of small disaster coming upon him, and it was the least stressed he’d felt in ages, even with university becoming harder and harder.

The volleyball club manager, a petite blonde art student by the name of Fukui Yumi, smiled at him as they walked over the campus to catch their only shared class. “I’m happy for you, Kenjirou-kun. The whole town was speaking about your misfortune, but you seem to be free at last.”

“Free at last indeed,” he sighed. Now it only had to hold on.

Yumi giggled. “What was it all about anyway? I only ever heard about the frog rain, but that wasn’t all, was it?”

Kenjirou sighed again at the memory of all the things he’d been through before he counted all of them he could remember, from least to most recent.

He was somewhere in the middle when Yumi tapped his shoulder, interrupting him. “I’m sorry to barge in, but …” She looked at him intently. “Are you sure it was a curse? These are all so specific and different, I don’t think one spell for it exists.”

“That’s what I’ve been thinking too, but what else could it have been?”

“Well … They definitely sound magical, so it was probably someone working a number of spells on you.”

That … Actually made sense, but who in the world had this much free time? And if this really was the case, why had the incidents stopped ever since Yahaba—

“Yahaba,” he whispered and stopped in his tracks. “Yahaba. Of course it was Yahaba. Who else? God, I’m so _stupid_.”

Yumi raised her eyebrows. “Yahaba?”

Oh, he would _pay_. Kenjirou wasn’t sure how yet, but he would get his revenge. It also explained why he’d been acting all smug all the time, as if he knew something that Kenjirou didn’t, because he _did_ , he should have seen this so much sooner. Their meetings in the library also made sense now – it was to check on him and see if everything was working according to plan …

It sounded like a thing Ushijima would fall for – pure, good-hearted Ushijima who took things to literally, but _Kenjirou_? This could have been his own fucking plan and he’d run right into it.

“Punch me, please,” he said.

Yumi didn’t even hesitate before her fist connected with his shoulder, the pain much sharper than one would expect from such a small girl. “Yahaba?” she repeated.

“Thanks.” He deserved that throbbing shoulder for being so stupidly blind. He should drag Yumi to Yahaba too, this seemingly kind manager packed more of a punch than anyone would think. “Yahaba Shigeru. Remember mysterious library boy?”

“ _This guy_?”

“Yeah, him. That’s Yahaba Shigeru. The guy who helped me with the curse too, didn’t I mention his name? It’s gotta be him.”

“What if he just cast a protection spell?” She cocked her head. “That would explain it too.”

“Why would he lie about it being a curse then? He definitely knew, and if he knew it must have been him.”

“That’s hard to argue with,” Yumi admitted. “But if it’s been two weeks, he’s probably already gone, so no need to get worked up about it anymore.”

She said that as if she didn’t know that Kenjirou was absolutely worked up about it and would go out of his way to get his damn revenge. Because it was her, it sounded more like an encouragement. _No_ need _to get worked up, but that doesn’t mean there’s no_ reason _._

“Just don’t do anything rash, okay?” There was hardly any worry in her voice and her usual smile reappeared on her lips before she continued. “By that I mean that you should probably learn how to defend yourself from magic before you confront him. If you don’t watch out, he could use it for self-defence. I have a friend whose high school boyfriend was a wizard, I could ask him for advice, if you want?”

 

* * *

 

Shigeru was sitting in a café reading a sappy romance novel his cousin had sent him when someone tapped his shoulder.

He flinched and looked up, thankful that the book’s title wasn’t readable like this, but the person next to him was nobody he recognised. It was a boy – or maybe a girl, if he thought about it? – with curly red hair and flushed cheeks, breathing like they’d just run a marathon.

“If I …” They paused for breath. “If I … Were you, I’d run.”

Shigeru furrowed his eyebrows. “Why? Did something happen?”

They held up a hand, the other one resting on their chest, and it took them a moment to speak again. “You’re Yahaba, right?”

“Yes?” How would they know that though? He’d made quite some effort to make sure nobody knew his name. The only one who did was Shirabu.

Wait.

Oh, crap.

“Shirabu-san is on the way here and he’s … Pretty mad.”

How on earth had he found this place? Hardly anyone even knew about this café, to the point where Shigeru wondered how they hadn’t gone bankrupt yet. It was exactly why he came here so often.

“I figured I’d warn you. I’m sure you didn’t deserve whatever he kept grumbling about …”

Actually, he probably deserved it. Which didn’t mean he wouldn’t follow the advice. “Thanks, I’m going then.” He quickly closed the book and shoved it into his bag, throwing the money he owed the café for the piece of cake and the coffee he’d bought earlier on the table.

The café was right at the dead end of a narrow street, surrounded by little more than old stone walls and the occasional trash bin. Which meant there was only one way out, and he could only hope Shirabu wasn’t already around, because avoiding him when this was the only path he could take was impossible to say the least. Why couldn’t he just use a broom, like his mother? Why had he been so intent on not following the tradition? It would have saved him so much trouble.

If Shirabu was mad at him though that could only mean one thing, that being he’d found out what game Shigeru had been playing. Honestly, he should have seen it coming; if the boy wasn’t knowledgeable enough to figure it out, one of his friends surely had. Magical creatures tended to flock together, one of the reasons why he’d attended Seijoh, and a town like Akizaka basically screamed _supernatural_ , so there must be a few people around who knew their magic.

Even if there weren’t, some of them must be smarter than Shirabu in this regard.

He paced down the street, making an effort not to actually run, as his steps would echo and perhaps drive Shirabu to him if he was nearby. If he’d had more time, he would have cast a spell to silence them, but his top priority was getting the hell away from here.

The hope of making it was shattered the second he spotted Shirabu at the crossing leading to the street he was coming from, looking straight at him.

_Wonderful. Now what?_

He should have listened to Oikawa. He should have just stayed away and let his grudge be a grudge, and he’d still live a happy life without the fear of imminent death hanging above him like the sword of Damocles.

“ _Yahaba Shigeru_ ,” Shirabu called, his tone of voice reminiscent to Kyoutani when he didn’t get a spike he wanted. Which would have been fine, he knew how to deal with Kyoutani, but this wasn’t Kyoutani, this was a really pissed off Shirabu pacing right toward him, eyes speaking of murderous intent.

He considered just making a run for it and hoping he would be faster.

 _Anger awakens many unknown powers in people, specifically those to kick someone’s butt_ , he once again remembered Watari saying.

Shirabu stopped in front of him, the lack of distance between them awkward had it not been for the fact that despite his height, this time he really did look menacing.

“You have exactly ten seconds to explain to me why you’ve been enchanting me,” he murmured, his voice almost inaudible and dripping with the unspoken threat.

Shigeru fought the urge to gulp.

What to do? He could just fess up or he could play cool and most likely get his ass handed to him, neither of which sounded appealing in the least. There was no real middle ground either. _Your sass will get you far someday_ , Hanamaki had once said. Iwaizumi had added, _Or it will get you killed._

“One …”

“You made my niece cry,” he blurted out without thinking.

At least the look he received was priceless.

“What?”

“Last year’s Halloween. You were making fun of her costume when she went trick-or-treating and when she got home she cried and ripped the roof off our house.”

Shirabu blinked. Once. Twice. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out for a solid half minute. Then, again, “What?”

“You probably don’t even remember.”

“No, I do remember. I was with my aunt and uncle that time and I opened the door for some children …” Shirabu said, slowly, as if trying to piece together the story. “She was the one in the … Fallen angel costume, right? I don’t remember what exactly I said anymore but I was _kidding_ , it actually looked really nice and well-made …”

“I wasn’t there, so I don’t know what you said, but she got really sad about it. And I mean _really_ sad. She couldn’t control her powers and we ended up without a roof and with lots of trouble.”

Oh, he’d never forget that. It had started with one tear and then suddenly a hailstorm. They could be glad it had only been their own house that had been harmed, but a good chunk of their records, some of which had been important, had been lost in the storm since they had been storing them right under the roof. They’d been in financial trouble for a while, but he still insisted the worst thing had been seeing a six-year-old cry hard enough to cause such a thing in the first place.

Shirabu stood there, dumbfounded, still close enough to him to radiate body warmth, and he had probably done the right thing by telling the truth because he seemed completely and utterly speechless.

“So I tracked you down and decided to pay you back, since I’m on a gap year anyway, and you came to Akizaka so I ended up following you and it all worked really well until you caught wind of it. Even though you were really late.”

“That,” Shirabu whispered, “is the _pettiest_ thing I’ve ever heard.”

_I get that a lot, no need to rub it in some more._

They stood there for a moment, neither of them moving an inch, staring at each other – Shigeru didn’t want to back down from a staring contest if this was one, and he really didn’t mind looking into those eyes, even if the situation was more than bizarre right now – and time seemed to pass really slowly until Shirabu was eventually the first one to take a step back.

“I can’t believe this,” he muttered. “You were acting all smug but you’re really just a petty piece of shit. All of this because I accidentally hurt your niece?”

“ _And_ threw us into severe debt,” Shigeru added. It was taken care of now, but at the time he’d had every reason to be angry.

“Don’t you ever get _tired_? You really are a freak.”

“I’ve stopped though, didn’t I?”

Shirabu folded his arms over his chest and cocked his head, eyes narrowing as he stared at him. “If I hadn’t asked you to help me, you’d still be doing your magic.”

“You’re really calling that ‘asking’?” Shigeru said, more to himself. Then, louder, he stated, “Maybe. But. I’ve stopped.”

There was another short moment of silence, but it wasn’t half as uncomfortable this time around. That was, until Shirabu spoke again. “I was happy I didn’t have to deal with you anymore …”

“Rude.”

“But now that we’re clear on this … You owe me _so_ much.”                                 

Shigeru was about to protest, but he couldn’t think of anything to say that wasn’t ‘yeah, probably’, so he shut his mouth and proceeded to stare Shirabu down.

“So don’t even think you can bail on me. And give me your number.”

He couldn’t help it. It was too big of an opportunity to pass up. “Oh, is _that_ where we’re going? I’m flattered you’d think of me that way.”

Shirabu immediately flushed crimson and for some reason it was enough for Shigeru’s cheeks to heat up as well. God, this case was all shades of difficult.

“So I can call you when I need your help,” he explained, a little too forceful. If there had been people around, they’d have probably been staring by now. “Obviously. Since you have so much time, you really shouldn’t mind getting something to do.”

“If you’re making me carry your bags, I swear …”

“Sounds like an excellent idea.”

He couldn’t quite believe just how terribly it all had backfired. He’d be shoved around by some pretty boy with a power over him he couldn’t even properly deny – maybe if he just didn’t show up … Ah, he’d think of something.

Although he had to admit that after the initial threat of demise talking to him like this, even if he had the short end of the stick, felt kind of nice. Maybe he had been wrong when he’d considered their personalities to clash. Maybe in another universe, or maybe even in this one, they could be friends; constantly bickering friends who were rude to one another more often than not, but friends, kind of like he and Futakuchi had been last year.

Not that he’d ever miss Futakuchi, no way.

“Are you giving me your number now or what?”

Ah, right. He scrambled for his phone in his bag and decided that giving a fake number wasn’t worth it and perhaps he really didn’t want to.

 

* * *

 

“I can’t believe you’re actually making me do this,” Yahaba whined while heaving the plastic pumpkin filled with all sorts of sweets through the gym. “Don’t you have a committee for this sort of thing?”

“We do, but they’re all useless,” Kenjirou called in response and continued working on placing the cobwebs.

The sports clubs had been assigned to decorating the gym for the Halloween party later this evening, but hardly anyone had showed up and all those who had actually helped had already left. Granted, it was nearing six and the party was starting at seven, but they were almost done and only needed the last few touch-ups. Since Kenjirou didn’t have a costume to change into, he was in no rush.

He wasn’t even all that involved in the volleyball club anymore, only helped out occasionally with practice. The whole reason he was helping out in the first place had been Yumi, and he’d come to the party later because of her, too. _I need someone who won’t abandon me around when I ask Rina-chan out_ , she’d said. Why him of all people though, he did not know.

Yahaba was most certainly not hiding the heavy sigh before he walked over to him, pointing his thumb at the pumpkin on the stage. “There we go. If you want it elsewhere, you’ll have to do it yourself.”

“Over there’s fine, _thanks_ ,” he said with the biggest, fakest smile he could manage.

“And you call _me_ petty.”

Normally, he would have shot something back, as he usually did when Yahaba was talking to him during whichever task he could think of, even though he hadn’t done all of them by far. His pride was annoying, but also admirable. Right now though he was tired and just happy that they were pretty much done, so he decided to let it be.

Kenjirou dropped on a chair and threw his head back, taking a deep breath. “Thank god this is over.”

Yahaba, annoyingly, didn’t look too out of breath despite the heavy pumpkin he had just carried. He was probably using magic to help himself out. “Just wait for the party. That’s going to be worse.”

“Ugh, yeah. I’d kill Yumi if she wasn’t so sweet.”

“Oh, does somebody have a crush?” Yahaba asked with a giggle that sounded kind of fake, but he didn’t bother thinking about it too hard.

“I wish. Crushing on Yumi would be easy.” He stopped for a second and stared at the ceiling. “Wait, no, it wouldn’t, she’s pretty gay.”

“So you _do_ have a crush!”

“I just said …”

“Not on Yumi, whoever she is. But you said it would be easy. Not having a crush is easy too, so …”

Well, he _didn’t_ have a crush, on anyone. He thought. He was pretty sure. Maybe. Hanging out with Yahaba was a given now, and he might consider him _cute_ but that wasn’t a crush, just … Aesthetic attraction. A crush would be …

“Tell me about them!” Yahaba said and when Kenjirou looked at him, the smile on his face half mocking and half … Something else, there was this strange feeling in his stomach that said _okay, maybe_ this _is a crush_. However the hell that had happened.

It wouldn’t last anyway. They hardly knew each other, most of their conversations consisted of insults, and just because he liked spending time with him now didn’t mean it would be like that forever. This might just be a case of _an asshole on top, a nice person underneath, and an even bigger asshole even deeper underneath_.

“No way,” he said, turning his head away. “What do you care about my love life anyway?”

“I have to know when you’re cheating on me,” he stated as if it was obvious and at the same time the most ridiculous thing in the world. “I do all sorts of stuff for you, so we’re practically married.”

“I’ll issue a divorce first thing in the morning.”

“I was thinking the same thing, actually. I don’t know how I agreed to this.”

They were silent for a moment, some sort of tension filling the air, but he couldn’t bring himself to find it really uncomfortable.

“Oh, damn, it’s six already?” Yahaba suddenly shouted, eyes wide. “I’ve gotta go, I still need to shower and change.”

“Wait, change?” He wasn’t planning on coming to the party, right? Because if that was the case, Kenjirou might have a problem. Dealing with Yahaba while he was ordering him around was one thing, but when they inevitably met at the party, things might not be this simple.

“I’m not missing out on that party. I want to see you in a ridiculous costume. Bye!”

And with that, he was gone, before Kenjirou could even say that he wouldn’t wear any.

He looked at the open door for a moment, wondering how the hell he had ended up like this, before he got up too, checked the decorations one last time, and left the gym.

 

* * *

 

When Shigeru, dressed in the cheapest vampire outfit he’d found for the heck of it, found Shirabu, he was disappointed to realise that the boy was wearing completely ordinary clothes. It reminded him of Oikawa on the Halloween party at Hanamaki’s in Shigeru’s third year – when Watari had completely forgotten to buy a costume and he’d made it his personal mission to fix that.

Lately, Shigeru found he’d learned a lot from him.

Shirabu was standing in a group of three with two really cute girls, a blonde one in a surprisingly historically accurate witch robe and a tiny redhead in a werewolf costume. They exchanged a look and then shot one at Shirabu when he approached them, but they seemed friendly enough. In fact, the blonde one reminded him of a good friend of his, at least from her overall aura.

“You found me,” Shirabu said, dry as a desert.

Instead of answering, he waved the not quite as historically accurate wizard hat at him and earned a suspicious look before the other took it, staring at it some more.

“Don’t just look at it, put it on, you’re standing out so much it’s actually sad to see, even if it’s you.”

The redhead giggled and the blonde girl coughed as if to hide a laugh. “We’ll be going then,” she said. “Have fun!”

He couldn’t quite tell whether Shirabu was about to tell him to fuck off or to actually put on the hat. After a moment, he just looked up. “You’ve scared Yumi and Rina away.”

“Are you sure that’s not you with your terrible attitude?” He took the hat away from Shirabu again and planted it on his head himself. “Lighten up a little, this is a party.”

“Not everyone enjoys that,” Shirabu snapped. He seemed to have lost what little of a patience he’d originally had and Shigeru would have been lying had he said he wasn’t worried at all. Not that he’d admit that out loud.

Still …

“What are you still doing here then?”

“Yumi asked me to come with her, but now that she’s successfully asked out Rina I could actually go home, you’re right.” Shirabu sighed and raised his hands to pull off the hat, but Shigeru caught his wrists in motion.

“Nope, no way, you’re not taking that off before I got a photo.” After a moment of thought, he added, “Let’s take it in front of the gym so it looks even worse.”

That was a lame excuse and he knew it, but he needed some reason to shove Shirabu out of here. He wouldn’t play nice with him all of a sudden or he’d be accused of planning something again, and if he was being honest, their … Friendship or whatever it was didn’t work _nice_. Maybe he’d picked up some of Iwaizumi’s _aggressively caring about Oikawa_ policy.

Oh god, Oikawa. He still had to call him and eventually tell him the whole story. How he dreaded the day.

“And why exactly should I do what you want me to?” Shirabu retorted, an eyebrow raised.

“Geez, just come with me for once, would you.” With that, he pulled him out by the wrist, carefully maneuvering around people and decorations, until they were outside the gym, where a few people were smoking, but they were the only ones around.

It was a cold night, maybe around five degrees, and the air was sharp, but easy to breathe nonetheless. Inside the gym it had been as dark as a party could manage, but this was actually much nicer, still gloomy but naturally so, with the occasional light source from the dim lanterns a bit down.

“So, Mister Party Pooper, what are we still doing here?”

“I wouldn’t know, you’re still holding my hand.”

Shigeru blinked and looked down at his hand still enclosed around Shirabu’s wrist, but it had slid a bit upward so that his thumb was resting on the inside of his hand. Shirabu’s fingers were brushing it ever so slightly, the touch tingling on his skin.

 _Oh. Okay._ That might be a problem.

Except it didn’t feel all that much like a problem at all, but he quickly let go anyway, even though the feeling on his skin stayed.

“What is it, never held hands before?” he asked, but it came out not half as biting as he’d hoped.

In the dark he couldn’t really see if Shirabu was affected – the colour were all somewhat blurring together, but there might have been a darker shade on his cheeks, though he could have imagined it. Should he be happy about it or run before this got any worse?

“Do you honestly think I’ve never been in a relationship?”

The words surprised him. Up until now, he hadn’t even thought about it. Honestly, his impulse reaction would be to say yes. It was a gut feeling. “Someone like you? I’d be surprised if anyone could stand you for more than a week.”

“ _You_ are currently standing me for more than a week,” Shirabu deadpanned.

Shigeru’s case was different, he thought, after all he was only hanging around because he owed him something. Sure, he could have just ditched him, left his debt behind, and made a run for it to some foreign place and Shirabu might never find him again … Maybe he could hide at Oikawa’s place in Tokyo. Surely he’d let him, and they could talk things out with his boyfriend too.

But right now, he didn’t really feel like it.

“I’m better than most people, I don’t count.”

The other boy shot him a look that was clearly visible even in the dark, the very same look reading _just shut up_ that he’d seen more times than he could count. “Just so you know, I was in a stable relationship for all three years of high school.”

Shigeru laughed out loud without even meaning to – it really was funny, because there was no way that could be true. It wouldn’t have worked for most people, but imagining Shirabu in a long-term relationship with anyone during _high school_ sounded so absurd he almost believed it again.

“What? It’s true. I’m not an ass to everyone, just you.”

“I know I’m special.”

“A special pain in the ass, yeah. If you don’t believe me, what about you then?” It sounded a lot like a challenge, and Shigeru was intent on winning it.

“My first girlfriend was the student’s council president and overall most popular girl in school.” The fact that she’d been his childhood friend and they’d only been dating for a week for shits and giggles after she’d dumped Oikawa didn’t matter in the slightest here.

“Wow, so you’re one of _those_ guys.” Shirabu’s voice was sharp and cold, and Shigeru actually felt kind of hurt, although he could understand where the other was coming from. He would have probably said the same thing.

Not that that made it any better.

“You’re just jealous. But I get it, not all of us can be wizards with awesome powers that any girl would immediately fall for,” he mused, waving his hand dismissively.

Shirabu snorted. “You’re saying that like you can do anything other than that annoying shit you’ve pulled on me.”

Okay, _now_ it was getting personal. Shirabu had never seen his _real_ powers, and he might not be as skilled as his mother or as powerful as Matsukawa, but he did have a few tricks up his sleeve.

He eyed the people still outside smoking and decided here wouldn’t be the best place for it, but thankfully he knew his way around, even after getting lost on campus several times back when he’d been new.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He made eye contact with Shirabu and pointed toward the small collection of trees that some had the nerve to call a forest about fifty meters away. Thankfully, he was spared anything akin to _Why should I trust you?_ and when he starting walking, the other boy followed him closely.

He wasn’t too bothered with hiding his powers, especially here in Akizaka nobody seemed to care, but that still didn’t mean he wanted too much attention on them, so when they reached the forest and no one else was around, he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Now what are you gonna do, set the trees on fire?”

He pressed his index finger to Shirabu’s lips with a “shhh” and closed his eyes, concentrating.

Working quick, fun spells like changing wine into water was easily done, but what he had in mind needed some more focus and especially peace and quiet. Not that he was feeling particularly at peace; if he screwed up now, he might really end up with a forest fire and enough humiliation to last him a lifetime.

It was a spell that his cousin had showed him once, but he’d changed it a little since on demand of a friend from another school – _it’s not sparkly enough!_ –, and if he did everything correctly, it would only look pretty and not actually be able to harm anyone.

He muttered the words he’d assigned to this variation of the spell; it wasn’t technically necessary but it tended to help to have a guide of sorts. They meant nothing in particular, although some of them were derived from the original Greek poem his cousin had used.

His body started to heat up just a bit, the power circulating through his system at a steady pace, and when he heard a soft gasp he dared to slowly open his eyes before finishing the spell.

The light dancing around the trees were dim and far from many, but the soft glow they emitted was enough to colour the world around them a dark shade of orange, flickering as if in candlelight.

He couldn’t help a smug grin – that was a decent job. Quite possibly among his best. Not too bright, but not too dark, and just enough to keep a _mere human_ like Shirabu entertained.

“If you could do this, why did you bother with me at all?” he breathed, reaching out for the lights but drawing his hand away before touching them. “You could become famous, you know.”

“It’s cheating to use it like that,” Shigeru answered with a shrug. He’d been told that before, that he could probably go out and become some famous magician, but it was boring if they were actually magical and besides, a career like that sounded way too stressful.

(Not as stressful as constantly enchanting a guy, but at least that had been temporary.)

“Don’t give me that, you’re just too lazy,” Shirabu said, but it lacked the usual sharpness. “But damn. Is there anyone like you who isn’t as insufferable? Because they’d be an awesome friend.”

“I don’t know if I should feel insulted or complimented.”

“Of course it’s an insult, what else?”

“Just admit that you love me, _Kenjirou_.” The name felt strange in his mouth, but Shirabu flinched and turned his gaze away, so he figured it was worth it. It wasn’t a _bad_ feeling after all.

“I’ve been raised to be honest, so I can’t,” the boy said.

“You’ve been raised to be a little shit.” Although that was probably the same thing.

“That, too.”

They looked at each other for a moment, Shigeru’s heart doing an ever so faint _thing_ that left him both frustrated and intrigued, as the lights started to fade one by one, and when the last one of them died, Shirabu turned his head again.

Had that been an impromptu staring contest or a silent agreement of sorts? Or just really, really awkward eye contact? Maybe all three at once?

“So, was that all?” Shirabu asked, a little more quietly than before. “I get it, you can do pretty magic, so what. Why even show me?”

He actually couldn’t really remember, even though it hadn’t been that long ago. Something about impressing girls. Not that Shirabu was a girl, or that he’d been trying to impress him. Okay, maybe he had been, but for an entirely different reason.

Everything else could be considered benefits that had come with it.

“To see what you’re missing out on,” Shigeru said and immediately wanted to take it back again.

What was it about them that turned simple banters into something this … Strange all the time? Could they never fight in peace? Was this really needed at all? Heck, Shirabu was wearing a ridiculous wizard hat, he was supposed to make fun of that, that’s why he’d _brought_ it. He told himself.

Shirabu didn’t quite look at him when he said, “Weren’t you the one who called us married? I’m not missing out on anything by your logic, even if we’re filing a divorce.”

“That makes even less sense.”

“Are we just going to stand around here for the rest of the night or what?” Shirabu changed the topic not really elegantly, but he had he a point. The whole reason why Shigeru had dragged him outside had been to get him away from the party, which he’d managed to do perfectly if he did say so himself, but just going home now would feel somewhat anticlimactic.

Not that there was anything to do in Akizaka after six PM. It was a miracle the Halloween party was even a thing that existed.

Although …

It was probably a really stupid idea, especially since Shirabu wasn’t even wearing a costume, but heck, why not.

“Let’s go trick-or-treating.”

“What.”

“It’s Halloween, and it’s not too late. Plus with your pissed off face we’d scare anyone. If I add some magic people won’t even find it weird that we’re both so old, there’s this spell that lets your perception of age change …” It was a little bit hard to pull off, but it lasted several hours and worked on everyone except for the enchanted, so nobody would wonder about it.

Shirabu blinked at him, seeming both confused and intrigued. Then, after a moment of silence, he sighed and shrugged. “You know what? Fine. It can’t get any worse. But don’t start crying if someone insults your costume.”

“I’m not my niece,” Shigeru said and waved toward the street. “We should get going though if we want all the candy.”

They didn’t even have bags, but they’d find a way somehow, and he hadn’t done this in ages. It was definitely going to be fun, even with Shirabu. ( _Especially_ with Shirabu.)

 

* * *

 

“I definitely won,” Kenjirou said as he was combing through the bonbons on the floor in front of him. “You don’t even stand a chance.”

“That’s because they’ve given you more,” Yahaba protested. “Probably because they were sad to see your lack of a costume.”

He wasn’t exactly sure how they had ended up in his apartment together. It had just kind of happened after all the candy had been getting hard to carry. Yahaba’s cape had given him an advantage, but you should never underestimate Kenjirou’s ability to carry things around. It was one of those talents he didn’t think would ever actually be useful.

In the end, it had been fun though, especially when they’d met the old woman who had told them about her skeleton hamster that had disappeared a few days ago. Kenjirou would have assumed her to be crazy, but hell, this was Akizaka, and she’d seemed perfectly sane otherwise.

Mimi sat on Yahaba’s lap, purring as he petted her – of course she would. The sight of Yahaba with a cat on his lap would have been cute if it had been any other cat than Mimi, and any other person than Yahaba.

Kenjirou unwrapped a chocolate bar and found it was filled with milk cream, which was always a nice surprise. Relishing in the thought that at least he’d won the silent candy competition, however on earth they’d managed to hold one while ringing at the same houses, he took a bite and glared at Mimi, who stopped purring for a moment, demonstratively turned her head away, and started again, louder this time.

“Isn’t this your stuffed cat I brought to life?” Yahaba asked.

Of course it was. Damn it.

“She hates me though,” Kenjirou said in between bites. “You’re a bad influence.”

“I’m just teaching her what’s right— Hold on a second.” He leaned forward and before he knew it, Kenjirou felt a thumb dragging across his lower lip. “Geez, can’t you even eat, you’ve got milk cream …”

It was in that very second that Yahaba seemed to realise what was going on and stopped in his tracks, his thumb still on Kenjirou’s lip, their eyes locked.

 _Uhm_ , he wanted to say, but not even that simple sound came out.

“Sorry,” Yahaba said, but didn’t move a millimetre.

A million things were running through Kenjirou’s head, ranging from _okay,_ why _would you do that_ to _it wouldn’t technically be weird if we kissed right now, right_ , and everything he could decide on was that he was thoroughly fucked by now, why even try to fight it anymore, god, he gave up.

His body leaned into the touch by itself, just a bit—

Until Mimi decided she’d had enough and jumped off Yahaba’s lap, meowing in protest, and just like that whatever kind of moment they’d just had was over.

They jerked apart, staring at each other and Kenjirou hadn’t realised that he was panting. _This is the guy who rained frogs on your balcony_ , he reminded himself, _you’re better than this._

The electric jolts running from his lip through his body betrayed him though.

“I’m gonna go,” Yahaba breathed. There was at least some solace in the fact that he was out of breath too, but Kenjirou didn’t stop him when he quickly stood up and waved half-heartedly before disappearing through the door without even taking his candy with him.

Mimi yawned and rolled up on the floor as if she’d done her job for today.

_Demon cat._

 

* * *

 

“Fucking exams.” Shirabu was lying on the library table more than sitting at it and Shigeru shot him a disapproving look.

“Language.”

“Kiss my ass.”

They’d been here for about four hours after a near-desperate call in the middle of the night. Shigeru didn’t know anything about the topic. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure why he was here.

Though he did exactly.

He couldn’t deny things were changing between them. Everybody who saw them was still shocked at their rudeness to one another, but even after the Halloween night they hadn’t managed avoiding each other. Tense moments like that were still happening, but it was even weirder now – somewhere along the road, he’d stopped caring. Both of them had. He couldn’t even exactly call it _tense_ anymore.

“You know, we should just date and call it a day,” Shigeru had said two days ago.

“We should,” Shirabu had answered.

Absolutely nothing had changed so far, so who knew what they actually were right now. _Friends_ didn’t seem to cut it anymore, if it ever had.

When he’d told Oikawa about it, he’d been laughed at for five minutes straight before he’d grown sick of it and ended the call.

“Ugh,” Shirabu groaned and heaved his head from the table, only to drop in on Shigeru’s shoulder. “End me. And I thought the entrance exams to Shiratorizawa were hard.”

He patted his head with a grin. “There, there.”

“Fuck off.”

“Can’t, you’re weighing me down.”

“Beam away with your magic, or are you too weak for that?”

“I’m out of practice.”

“So I’m right.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be studying?”

Maybe they should just go back to the regularly scheduled magical pranking, not that he wasn’t still doing that from time to time. Although Shirabu must really be tired if he hadn’t noticed that Mimi had changed fur colour. Had he known that before, he would have recalibrated the colours in his apartment first.

In hindsight, at least his pettiness had brought him somewhere, even if he was going in the exact opposite direction than initially planned. _Life does that sometimes_ , his first girlfriend had said after breaking up with Oikawa. _You think you’re going one way and suddenly you’re completely elsewhere._

(Though she hadn’t looked particularly sad about the breakup, just really pissed, so who knew if her advice could actually be trusted or she’d just been rambling.)

“Let’s get some soba when I’m done here,” Shirabu muttered, eyes trailed on the textbook in front of him. “You pay.”

They’d fight that out once they got there. As always.

**Author's Note:**

> listen I wanted to write a kiss but I couldn't find a way to fit it in and I've been having a hard time making it romantic ...  
> all my romantic stuff turns platonic ...  
> it's the aro curse ;_______________;)/
> 
> anyway, thanks for reading!!
> 
> scream with me on http://akaashi-tooru.tumblr.com/ (ﾉ^ヮ^)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧


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